Unorthodox Methods
by Princess-Arulmozhi
Summary: Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi teach Padawan Anakin Skywalker the ways of the Force.


**Title: Unorthodox Methods  
Author: Princess Arulmozhi  
Category: Humour  
Summary: The era is post-TPM, AU. Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi instruct Padawan Anakin Skywalker in the ways of the Force.  
****Rating: G  
Feedback: Oh, definitely!  
****Disclaimer: The characters belong to George Lucas, and I make no money out of this. **

**Author's Note:** This piece belongs to the post-TPM Timeline, AU. Specifically,a vignette, written in response to Diane's 'Broken Nose of Qui-Gon' Challenge ( where we're supposed to describe an incident - any incident - where Master Qui-Gon Jinn breaks his nose-) on the JC forums.

**Unorthodox Methods**

"Once more, Anakin," urged Obi-Wan's voice.

Anakin Skywalker sighed, wondering at the famed Jedi stoicism, particularly when it came to accepting the brunt of a gruelling regimen - and if he would ever, some day, possess it. "I _am_ trying, master..."

"You know what Master Yoda would say to that comment, don't you," came the wry response, and Anakin sighed again. Feeling a gentle prod of encouragement through their bond, he gathered wayward tendrils of the Force around him, trying to focus on the clay bowl in front of him. If he could only lift it more than an inch off the table...

"Perhaps a break is in order," came another voice to his left - a rich baritone. "It would serve us all better, I think."

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn unravelled himself gracefully from the meditation posture he had adopted for the past hour - as had they all - and stood up. "_Taei_, Obi-Wan?"

"I don't see why not," murmured Obi-Wan as he sat back, assuring himself that Anakin had not tipped the bowl over - not that that was likely to happen, at the moment. One never knew, though. "I would prefer the Corellian blend - have we stocked it" Receiving an answer in the affirmative from the kitchen, he turned towards Anakin. "What about you, Ani?"

"No _taei_, thanks. I'd rather have muja juice." The ten-year-old stifled a yawn with difficulty - though there were still two hours until his bed-time. He looked at the door to his quarters with longing, wondering if he would be dismissed soon. He did not usually prefer retiring early - but today ...

It had been exhausting, even by Jedi standards. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had begun by teaching him the rudiments of the fifth kata, which, to the boy, seemed to involve an inordinate amount of leaping, flipping, graceful curves and perfect stances. The two masters had been unrelenting - Anakin would later discover that they had thought themselves lenient - and it had been a back-breaking session, to say the very least. After that had come meditation, which had been curiously refreshing - he had found it unexpectedly easy to focus, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been pleased. Anakin had been inclined to think of it as a fortunate co-incidence, until Obi-Wan assured him that the fifth kata had something to do with it - as one progressed further, acquiring skills, meditation automatically became easier - or some such thing.

Three tutoring sessions later, Master Qui-Gon had decided that they would continue with their levitation lesson that evening - simple levitation, into which he had been initiated ten standard days ago. Anakin had been suitably excited - until he found that raising even a pin off the floor required a concentration he apparently had no energy left to gather.

_Am I tired, or am I bored_? He wondered briefly, before accepting, gratefully, the tall glass of juice handed to him. Surely he had done far more on Tatooine, and stayed up for longer hours?

He felt a questioning probe along the edges of his mind and looked up, to find Obi-Wan gazing quizzically at him.

"Tired, Ani?"

"A bit. But I'm not bored" he added quickly - and felt a twinge of embarassment as Obi-Wan broke into a chuckle. He had _not_ intended to say that. But then, he knew that his masters - neither of them - would take offence at some of his quips. Well, not _all_ the time. Perhaps others would - but he was singularly blessed, he thought, to have been taken into the tutelage of Jedi who not only acknowledged a sense of humour - but did not think it wrong to display it, either. Within grounds, of course.

_Unorthodox_, as he had heard whispered, on his sojourns around the Temple. True enough.

Everything about his training was unusual - he had known that, even in the early stages of his apprenticeship. Within weeks of his taking residence in the Temple, he had learnt about initiates desperate to find masters, while masters hunted for apprentices worthy of carrying on their legacies - and before long, had a very good idea of how fortunate he actually was - considering his age, he had _two_ masters in charge of training him. Each of whom any initiate would give an arm and a leg to be apprenticed to - he had known that as well.

The prospect had been exhilarating - but being the padawan of Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi was not without a price, as he learnt soon. For he was now expected to carry on the legacy of two exemplary Jedi - one of whom was the premier swordsman in the entire Jedi Order some said even the galaxy - and another, who had actually destroyed the first Sith to emerge in a thousand years, in combat - while still being an apprentice himself, no less. And that feat had earned him his knighthood - followed, almost immediately by an elevation to being a Master.

It may be a heady sensation - but it also meant that he needed to be able to lift the clay bowl in front of him more than an inch, definitely. Anakin briefly considered giving voice to a string of...

"...a clay bowl is not going to feel much, I think - regardless of vile Huttese curses, Anakin," came an amused voice above him.

Anakin looked up, startled, to see Master Qui-Gon, handing a cup of steaming liquid to Obi-Wan. The two masters shared a look, and had Anakin been less aware of their powers, he would have thought it just that - a look. In all probability, however, one of them had passed an _evil _comment regarding his pitiful efforts at levitation. Well, not evil, maybe - his masters were always careful never to belittle his efforts. Still...

It had been months, but he still could not bring himself to terms about their ability to communicate telepathically. Despite the training bond, _he_ could not - yet. The bond served it's purpose - he sensed emotions, and could make out instructions when Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon touched his mind strongly - but it was always an effort to do it. There was no fluidity - not the ease with which his masters seemed to be able to accomplish it. _Ha. But they were masters, after all. _

Although...Qui-Gon had let slip, during one light-sabre session, that he and Obi-Wan had managed such telepathic communications quite early, in the latter's apprenticeship.

_Force_, he had felt so inadequate, then.

Both masters had felt it - and were quick to reassure him. Apparently, it required a lot of practice - to be able to hold conversations within one's mind - Obi-Wan had said that it would be accomplished, eventually, with time. He'd also said that it took an especially strong mental connection.

That Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon possessed it, was obvious. The two masters were so perfectly synchronized in their thoughts that they often completed each other's sentences - sometimes, Anakin could almost believe that there was only one master teaching him, not two. It made things much easier during their tutoring sessions - but Anakin could never quite quell feelings of intense longing and envy, mixed with admiration whenever he witnessed the shared looks and smiles that were the outward signs of such a conversation being held. To be able to _belong _that way...would he? _Ever_?

"Yes." Came two voices almost at once, and Anakin knew - that they knew. And he felt an inordinate sense of relief. Fighting down a brief urge to burst into tears, he sensed Qui-Gon move towards the kitchen again - and saw Obi-Wan watching him.

"Perhaps a smaller object would help," Obi-Wan spoke, as he reached out through the force for a prism that stood on a shelf above them. Qui-Gon had once said that it was a memento from a mission to Tekastha IV - famous for its artefacts. Anakin looked at the beautiful work of art, admiring its angles, trying to judge its dimensions. It _might_ work.

"Ready?" There was that questioning probe again. "Now, listen..." Anakin smiled, and nodded.

A minute later, he started. Focusing on the prism felt considerably easier, this time. There was the size, of course, but he knew the real reason instinctively. Oh, this was _devious_...

He sensed Qui-Gon settle down in meditation posture again - to his left.

_Concentrate, now..._

The prism wobbled gently. Half an inch. _More?_ Perhaps, if he could just pour all that nervous energy he usually felt during light-saber training, into the air around the prism...

_Sith_, it was heavy - despite it's fragile appearance. But he could do this, he knew he could. _Come now_. Just a little more.

A deep breath - and the prism rose a little. There it was, dangling tantalisingly - four inches off the floor. Finally - he'd managed to go beyond the infamous one-inch boundary. He felt a tingle of approval from both his mentors. Oh good - _more, now_. If he had to carry out what he intended to do...

The prism was higher now - much higher than what he had achieved in his previous efforts - and that had not been much. Now, to nudge it gently - so gently, towards...

The Force crackled in him, suddenly. Anakin fumbled, and strove to aright his focus - the last thing he wanted was for the prism to collide with some extra-ordinary object his masters considered precious. His object was to guide it along one particular path...he smiled, as he angled the prism gently, altering it's course. _Oh yes..._

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Obi-Wan knit his eye-brows, as though puzzled. _Now. _

The prism wobbled again in mid-air - and then, suddenly veered off it's course. Instead off proceeding towards the ceiling, it dashed towards the left, and as Obi-Wan and Anakin watched - the one in consternation, and the other with fascinated horror - crashed magnificently into Master Qui-Gon Jinn's nose.

Blood spurted from the damaged tissue almost at once. Within seconds, it appeared, to Anakin's horrified gaze, that there was bright red blood sprinkled in spots all over Qui-Gon's face, his tunic, and Obi-Wan's hands as well - the young master had practically leapt to his former mentor's side, and was now touching Qui-Gon's face gently, trying to assess the damage.

" 's allright, Obi," came Qui-Gon's voice in a mumble, sensing the other's thoughts. "Odly a tear."

"It is _not_ alright, Qui-Gon" came Obi-Wan's irritated reply. "I won't insist on the healers-" - Anakin saw the blue-green eyes twinkle briefly "just keep still, a moment."

"Master," began Anakin desperately. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - I just- "

"Adi, was jus' ad accided'" began Qui-Gon, trying to obey his former apprentice by stilling his hands as much as he could.

"No, it wasn't..." Anakin forged ahead, feeling worse by the moment - it had certainly not helped that he'd felt Qui-Gon's spurt of pain through their bond - that he still felt it, though Obi-Wan had managed to shoulder the brunt of it. "I should have listened to Master Obi-Wan-"

Qui-Gon lifted an elegant eye-brow. Obi-Wan's fingers ceased their ministrations for a moment, before continuing. Anakin had the distinct impression that he had barely stopped himself from throwing a glance towards the boy. "Listened to whad?"

Anakin felt a brief rush of foreboding, much in the manner of one who was rushing in on his fate - but decided to proceed anyway. He would never learn anything of Jedi stoicism, if he didn't. "I should have focused more. Master Obi-Wan told me to only brush your nose lightly - but I went and... " He drew a deep breath. "Bopped your nose."

This time, Obi-Wan stopped completely, lowering the soft cloth he had been using to wipe away the blood - the bleeding had halted, anyway. Qui-Gon directed a look at his former student that might have anything from a wounded stare to an outraged glare.

"_Bopped_ my nose?" questioned the older master. Anakin threw an anguished look at Obi-Wan and lowered his head, sincerely wishing that the floor would simply open up in a gaping hole, and swallow him up. He wouldn't even have minded if said hole finally decided to deposit him in Hoth. He would escape Master Qui-Gon's famed 'Ice-glare', in that case.

A long moment later, he raised his head tentatively - to find no instance of glares, icy or otherwise. Master Qui-Gon was still sitting in a meditational posture, tentatively touching his nose - while Master Obi-Wan was in front of him, kneeling - except that his head was bowed. He seemed to be directing a look at his former mentor under his long lashes, however - and a strange smile was playing about his mouth.

"_Unorthodox_ methods, padawan mine?" queried Master Qui-Gon gently, his eyes intent on his former apprentice. Anakin blinked, before realizing that they must have been conversing through their link.

"Indeed, my master," came the reply in soft tones. It had always been a constant source of amazement to Anakin that a Master so skilled in Jedi arts could possess such a mellow tone. "I knew Ani was having difficulties in levitating objects without any apparent purpose - and since he usually displays such enthusiasm for pranks and - er - unusual methods of instruction, I thought it might help if I told him to levitate the prism in the general direction of your nose." The smile grew, much to Anakin's mystification. "I ought to have taken into consideration your regal nose's - er - 'nose' for trouble, however, even if Anakin didn't. I apologize."

"Quite so, Obi-Wan," came Qui-Gon's reply, and Anakin gave the mental equivalent of a groan and slumped in his seat. He knew that tone of voice - his punishment would be terrible. Regardless of Master Obi-Wan's acceptance, there was obsolutely no excuse for padawans breaking their master's noses. "I understand completely."

Master Obi-Wan looked up in susprise. "You do?"

"But yes, my former apprentice. As you say, Ani would learn much better, if he were to be provided, as you so aptly put it - a purpose, during his levitation lessons."

Anakin perked his ears - had he or hadn't he felt a brief spike of ..._mischief?_!

Obi-Wan frowned, as he too caught the emotion. "What-" A cusion from the couch suddenly sailed over to the Master's head and stopped, floating in mid-air.

Master Qui-Gon threw a serious look at Anakin, who had sat up straight. "Ani, I suggest you practice your aim, as well as your skills in levitation" he pointed to the cushion." With that."

Anakin grinned and rubbed his hands, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "Of course, Master."

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi watched, eyes widening, the swift approach of the cushion that was set on a collision course with his head.

00000000000000000

Knight Moranis was passing along the doorway to the quarters of Jinn/Kenobi/Skywalker with an acquaintance. Both stopped as they heard indistinct sounds from within - of objects falling- and then, a quite distinct _crash_.

"Training padawan Skywalker, are they?" inquired Knight Tulu. "I hear he's something of a trial, to them."

Knight Moranis shook his head. "Very," he murmured in sympathy, as they continued walking down the corridor.

THE END.


End file.
